Seeing with the Heart

I'm finally catching up on posting here! This is the sermon I preached for the Third Sunday of Easter, after having spent the Second Sunday of Easter on an Air Force Base in California. It was my honor to have been asked to give the invocation at the commissioning of one of our former St. Barnabas members as she assumed the role of leading the 940th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron. 

And like with so many other experiences one has as a priest, I felt as though I had received much more than I gave during this moment with our military in the Air Force. 

See what you think.

Text: Luke 24:13-35

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This Gospel lesson…often called “The Road to Emmaus”…is one of my favorites.

Luke has a number of memorable passages…The Prodigal Son…The Good Samaritan…but this one hits on that idea that the most ordinary…and simplest encounters with a stranger…can remind us that we’re all connected through the One Love of God to each other.

And it’s through sharing…both our stories and gathering around the table for a meal…that we will know and be known to each other.

It’s also a lesson in what true faith looks like.

We can understand that Cleopas and the other disciple were in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions.

Jesus…the man in whom they had trusted and counted on to be their Messiah…was betrayed and brutally executed by their oppressors…the Roman Empire.

But then…they got word that the women had gone to the tomb…found it empty…and were telling the others that Jesus was alive.

And then…a bunch of the men went to the tomb…they…too…said it was empty.

So these two disciples are doing what any of us would do: they’re not only processing all of this in their own heads…they’re trying to work it out with each other as they make this long walk back to Emmaus.

And when this stranger comes along…and asks “What things? What are you talking about?” they’re like, “Bruh! You don’t know?!” and now they have a third party to help them muddle their way through this trauma.

Isn’t this how we act when something extraordinary and bizarre happens?

Our natural instinct is to share and process.

I think about the time that the tornadoes ripped through the middle of Tallahassee a couple of years ago.

One of them passed right by our house before it landed on a nearby golf course and met up with its twin to continue tearing through neighborhoods in the heart of the city.

After the fact…all of us on our block were in the street…comparing notes of what we heard when…who had heard the tornado alarm?...All of that.

So that’s the headspace that these two disciples are in.

And as this stranger starts to explain…piece by piece…bit by bit…the whole arc of the Messianic story….something shifts in them.

They feel their hearts…”strangely warmed.”

In the midst of the chaos…this stranger is helping to calm them down… lower the adrenaline… as he reminds them of their story.

His demeanor and words made enough of an impression that when he tries to walk off… they’re saying, “No wait! Come home with us.”

That invitation was a major act of trust on their part.

They still don’t know who this guy is… but they felt a level of comfort that made them want to open their home to him.

It was also a mark of their radical hospitality.

It was a common practice at that time in the First Century that people traveled in a type of buddy system because it wasn’t safe to walk alone on some of the roads between towns.

I can imagine that Jesus…still operating incognito at this point… also felt his heart brimming with happiness.

Their willingness to take in the stranger… which was in keeping with his teachings of that Jewish ethic of welcoming the foreigner… must have given him confirmation that those who had believed in his message were not giving up on Love… even as the Roman authorities attempted to cruelly snuff it out.

As he took…blessed…broke…and gave the bread… the two disciples’ hearts…already with those embers of recognition burning… had their eyes opened to see that this stranger was… in fact… their beloved Jesus.

And then he was gone.

We might have thought this sudden disappearance plunged them back into depression.

But instead…they reflected on that moment… the understanding of what just took place.

And as all the pieces came together in their heads…they had the realization of the great gift they’d been given.

They’d just experienced Jesus…present with them in the body of a supposed stranger.

And now this event is the thing that they could hold onto.

Having known Jesus in this way…this is the feeling that they could carry with them and share this understanding with others.

This story of the disciples on that long walk back to Emmaus is a master class in what having faith in God looks like.

Faith isn’t about having all the answers or seeing something right before our faces.

Faith sees with the eyes of the heart… and it’s that sixth sense that can’t be quantified or calculated.

But it’s that stirring we can feel inside ourselves that leads us to wonder and curiosity.

We can sense the presence of the Holy anywhere…whether we’re out in nature and meeting God as we commune with creation…or even as we sit beside a stranger in a waiting room.

God is never that remote if we take the time to slow down and pay attention to who and what is around us. 

It’s through this process of slowing down…and taking time with one another…that we unknowingly invite Jesus into our space.

In this way…Jesus serves as that ultimate community organizer….building bridges through swapping our stories and sharing meals at the table…both this one…and the ones we sit at every day in our homes and our communities.

I was reminded of the importance of such communion this past weekend when I was in California to deliver the invocation at Major Brittany Peters-Wagenius’s assumption of command ceremony.

Besides spending time with Brittany and the whole Wagenius family…I had some conversations with a few of the service members who were in attendance.

As you might imagine… this is a particularly difficult and stressful time for the military… and especially for Brittany’s squadron which takes care of the aircraft used in refueling missions.

When I shared with them about St. Barnabas and how close we are to Moody Air Force Base… I could see in some of their faces that sense of almost relief and appreciation that a church such as ours exists.

One woman even remarked how important it was for the men and women of the Air Force to have a place such as this where they could come and be in the civilian community… and have a spiritual home that wasn’t about the military.

And all this sharing happened without me preaching; I just simply shared that we’re a church near Moody Air Force Base.

And that’s one of the critical pieces of this Gospel story that I think is an important take away.

Once the disciples had their moment of reconnecting with Jesus at the table…they didn’t just sit there.

They went back to Jerusalem.

They sought out others.

They shared their experience.

We should do the same…especially now when the world needs to see Christians who are following Jesus.

By sharing our stories… by letting the prayers we say here…and the meal we eat at this table take root in us and transform us…others will see in our actions…and our words…that ethic of Love that comes to us through Jesus.

And in turn…we may find our hearts strangely warmed by our contact with others if we remain open and attentive to the world around us.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.